


Distraction

by laireshi



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Marvel 616
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 14:59:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11210466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: Tony finally has Doom where he wants him: trapped in Tony's lab.It doesn't quite go the way Tony imagined, though.





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Comicsohwhyohwhy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comicsohwhyohwhy/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!! Thank you for always being here for all the Tony rareships and terrible angst! 
> 
> This takes place just after the end of Invincible Iron Man 013.

“You’re trapped. You’re _mine_ ,” Tony says. 

Doom _freezes_ for a moment. He scowls in the next second, but it’s too late; Tony’s seen it, the way Doom’s pupils blew up.

It’s . . . interesting. It’s a bad, _bad_ idea, but that’s all Tony specialises at, right, what’s one more mistake? _Play with fire until it burns you, Stark_. 

(God, he hopes it’ll burn him.)

He steps forward into the sphere holding Doom. It doesn’t hinder Tony, _take that, magic users_ , of course. Doom looks surprised, but then Tony’s leaning in, and Doom _doesn’t move_ and Tony kisses him, licks into his mouth and puts a hand on the nape of Doom’s neck and pulls him closer.

Doom’s surprisingly warm, and solid, and _there_. It’s enough. It has to be. Tony doesn’t know what to do if it’s not. 

He hurt so many people, he hurt his _friends_ , he needs a fucking break and anything is better than alcohol, and Doom isn’t his friend, maybe that’s why Tony won’t hurt him—

Doom puts a hand on his chest and pushes him away. “Anthony,” he says, his voice strangled. “You don’t want this.” 

“Yes,” Tony says, “Yes, I do,” and he chases Doom’s lips again. Doom’s tense under Tony’s hands, but he lets him, doesn’t step away when Tony reaches for his tie and loosens it.

Tony thinks of Doom saving his life and acting so damn _helpful_ and thinks that yes, he’s not lying, he wants this and maybe they were always going to end up here—if not quite like _this_. 

Tony wonders, if Doom had his magic right now, would he attack him? They’re both just normal men under their armours, though; it’s not as if Tony really has any advantage now . . .

Tony just wants someone to touch him and ground him and god, Doom’s right, he’s _pathetic_.

Tony pushes Doom’s jacket off. Doom gives him a disdainful look as it falls to the ground, but he lets Tony open his shirt button next, and oh, _oh_ , he’s more muscled than Tony would’ve given him credit for. He slides his hands under Doom’s shirt and Doom shivers under his touch. 

Tony really would’ve expected him to _push back_. 

“You—”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Tony says, “just—touch me—”

Doom looks at him for a long, weighed moment, and then nods curtly. He initiates the next kiss, and it’s different, now, and Tony grasps at Doom’s arm to keep his balance as Doom presses into him, more decisive, not just yielding to Tony. 

There was something to be said about that, too, Tony thinks foggily, about having this powerful villain, or is he, just under his hands. 

This probably means he shouldn’t really be doing this. Tony doesn’t care.

Doom touches Tony’s chest, lower this time, right over the RT, and Tony buckles away. Doom tilts his head. “What, you don’t _trust_ me?” he asks, something weird in his voice again.

“Do you?” Tony challenges. He doesn’t wait for the answer. He slides smoothly to his knees, still fully clothed, and reaches for Doom’s belt. Doom slides his fingers into Tony’s hair and keeps silent as Tony opens his trousers and pulls them down in one movement. 

Doom’s getting hard, already, and Tony palms at him through his underwear—dark green, silk, _fucking subtle—_ and nuzzles at him with his cheek, and Doom makes a strangled noise.

Tony approves of that. He pushed down Doom’s briefs, puts a hand on his hip and runs the other one over the length of Doom’s cock. He licks over the top, and Doom’s fingers tighten in Tony’s hair. Tony swallows him whole, then, and Dooms makes another bitten off sound. 

Tony works on him, and there’s something incredibly hot about guessing and learning what Doom likes, what makes him swear and what makes him grip Tony’s head harder, the tension in his whole body palpable as he’s clearly trying to hold himself in check and not just fuck into Tony’s mouth.

Tony flicks his tongue over the side of Doom’s cock.

“ _Anthony_ ,” Doom says, and it’s good, Tony feels himself straining in his trousers and briefly regrets he didn’t get naked first. 

Doom is clearly close, trembling all over, sweat gathering on what of his body Tony can touch. Tony moves his hand from Doom’s hip higher up, runs it over his stomach and then clutches at Doom’s wrist, all the while sucking at his cock, trying to make it better still. 

“Anthony,” Doom says again, tight, and Tony tries to nod, moves his head away and then swallows Doom’s cock again, waiting—Doom comes in his mouth, and Tony holds him through it. 

He moves away, then, also winded, trying to catch his breath. Doom’s over him, his eyes closed, his fingers twitching. Tony tucks him back inside his clothes neatly and then reaches into his own trousers, but it’s as if Doom can sense his movement: he opens his eyes, pulls Tony up and kisses the breath out of him. 

Tony presses his body into Doom’s, and Doom doesn’t break a kiss as he opens Tony’s fly and puts his hand over Tony’s cock. Tony clings to him, and he’s close already, but he tries to steady his breathing and make it last. 

“I could show you something,” Doom says, pressing a line of kisses from Tony’s lips to his pulse point, “If you brought that barrier down.”

“Maybe next time,” Tony answers, and Doom huffs a laugh. He’s got nimble fingers, and he’s moving his hand over Tony’s cock fast, changing pressure now and then. Tony moans as Doom grips him higher, and Doom picks up on it, his touch getting more steady. He bites on Tony’s neck, gently at first and then stronger, and the pinpoint of pain is the perfect counterpoint to the heat pooling in Tony’s groin.

Tony digs his fingers into Doom’s back, his heart beating wildly in his chest, the pleasure building up. Doom slows down, and Tony makes a sound of protest before Doom kisses him again, running his hand over the tip of Tony’s cock and down again, and Tony’s coming, only Doom’s other arm around him keeping him upright. It’s a long moment before he feels like he can open his eyes and keep himself steady, but Doom doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to push him off.

Tony closes his trousers, at last, and looks at Doom briefly before looking away. Doom hasn’t bothered with fixing the rest of his clothes: his shirt is still open, and there’s traces of Tony’s come on his lower stomach, the sight of it doing something to Tony’s insides. 

He should let him go. He should turn off the zero point sphere and let him go and—and—

Tony Stark, the futurist, scared of the future.

“And now, Anthony,” Doom drawls slowly, “what?”

Tony just laughs. What indeed.


End file.
